


Perfect Surprise

by Slantedlight (BySlantedlight)



Category: The Professionals
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-20 21:44:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3666321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BySlantedlight/pseuds/Slantedlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Original picture and post here: <a href="http://minori-k.livejournal.com/125223.html"><span class="u">At Minori's livejournal</span></a>.</p></blockquote>





	Perfect Surprise

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Drawing Log March 2014](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1388650) by [minori_k](https://archiveofourown.org/users/minori_k/pseuds/minori_k). 



The weather had broken, fine dry winter turning to turbulent spring in a sudden afternoon rush, and now rain slapped hard against the windows, and the wind howled. Bodie's curtains wavered, trying to hold back the draught and the night, succeeding well enough that the room was warm, even cosy. The main light was off, lamps golden in the corners, shadowing the dusky walls to softness, drawing their world in, away from the gust-ravaged dark. The gas fire flickered behind its grill, scenting the air with its heat, just as the smell of their dinner still lingered, roast beef, roast potatoes, gravy and veg...

_Perfect_ , thought Bodie, _almost perfect_. He was too comfortable to move, slouched on the sofa with a glass of wine in one hand, the other draped negligently along the cushions that stretched behind him. If he let it fall just a little, if he stretched his fingers, he could... But no. No, not quite perfect.

Beside him Doyle took a deep breath as the programme they were watching ended - something about El Alamein, Bodie thought, _The World at War_ \- and then raised his own half-full glass to drink. From his vantage point Bodie could see Doyle's lashes lowered, dark against his cheeks, could see the corner of his mouth, lips against the glass. If he stretched his fingers, tangled them in Doyle's hair, and then leaned down, if he kissed Doyle beside that glass, let his tongue lick at the place where...

No. Not quite perfect.

And shit - _shit_ , Doyle had caught him staring, was looking up at him strangely, was starting to frown. Of course he was - he'd let himself get too comfortable, wallowing in the luxury of having Doyle to himself after everything that had happened on the job, after that madness with the bomb, that moment of thinking _it's us, this time it's us_. At least he'd been with Doyle, he'd thought, and then the wire was pulled, and they were safe again, and... and Doyle was looking at him strangely.

"Right then, Raymond!" he said brightly, pulling his arm away from temptation, pushing himself to his feet. He strode across the room to the window - _far, far away from temptation_ \- and parted the curtains, though all he could see was deep black framed in white, streams of rain. "You calling a taxi or walking it tonight?" Of course he'd call a taxi, no one in their right mind would go out there tonight. "Number's by the phone if you want it, rank's just around the corner..."

He heard movement, Doyle getting up, the soft tap of his glass being put down. 

"In that?" Doyle said, somewhere behind him, "You've got to be joking."

And then a door closed, and then there was silence, but for that rain, that cold, cold rain outside.

_For the best_ , he thought. They'd drunk enough that he could pass the moment off as fancied, and next time - because he knew it would happen again, he'd wanted Doyle too long and too much to be able to stop himself giving in to his imagination now - he'd have a better come-back, a better excuse. _Did you know you've got broccoli in your hair?_ he'd ask, suave as could be...

A floorboard creaked behind him suddenly, and he'd dropped the curtain and turned in an instant, hand going to the back of his trousers where'd he'd tucked his gun, but it wasn't there, of course it wasn't there....

...but there were hands on his cheeks, fingers warm against his skin, and a face, a face in front of him. He felt his eyes wide, his breath stopped in his throat, his heart jolt to a standstill.

It was Doyle.

Doyle whose lips were parted to kiss him, Doyle whose eyes were closed, his breath warm enough to start Bodie breathing again, a gasp of air that seemed to draw Doyle closer to him, until it was shared, and they were kissing and breathing in perfect balance.

He lifted his arms at last, pulled Doyle more firmly to him, and then he just held on, and he kissed him back.

Outside, the rain slapped one last time against the window, and then it gentled, although no one inside noticed.

 

_March 2014_

**Author's Note:**

> Original picture and post here: [At Minori's livejournal](http://minori-k.livejournal.com/125223.html).


End file.
